


The Burden He Has to Bear

by ohhstark



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), The Avengers (2012), whovengers - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 06:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohhstark/pseuds/ohhstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Banner is a normal guy with a normal life and a normal job living in New York City in the 1930s. At least, he'd like to think so. The truth is, amidst a sea of corruption, deception, and lies, having a normal life was out of the question the moment he agreed to become a cop. Not to mention the sassy best friend he has to deal with on a daily basis and the mysterious woman who tumbled into his life like a comet, burning hot and white inside his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Chapter One

He wakes up at the crack of dawn for his shift. He'd drawn the short end of the stick this week, but he didn't have it as bad as his friend. Tony had been complaining about being on the night shift for the past two weeks. He felt bad for the guy, but he was an insomniac anyway and would have spent the night awake anyway. Of course, he was almost just as bad. 

Or maybe it was the nightmares. The things he's seen. The things he's done in the face of justice and the law. A large part of him is disgusted with himself. He tries to console himself with the thought that these are tough times. For everyone. Great Depression and all. Which is exactly why he puts up with all the corruption. All the deceit and all the lies. He slumps through it all in the hopes that once this depression ends, there will be an end to it. He didn't get into this line of work to become a crooked cop. He got into it to help people. And right now it feels like the only one he's helping right now is himself. 

Sighing, he straps on his belt, his gun a cold and heavy weight against the fabric of his hip. It's been sitting there. A bleak comfort against the horrors of the world for five long years. He doesn't know when it changed from that to a burden he's forced to bear. But there it is. He just hopes that this hatred for his job doesn't get anyone killed.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

When he finally staggered out of the police station that day, he wondered when he would next sleep. The things he'd done today. He was a monster. Plain and simple. He'd thrown three families out into the streets. He'd thrown children out into the streets. All because they were too poor to pay their rent. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. His job be damned. He didn't know how much longer he could do this. 

It was a heavy weight in his chest. A twisting, writhing thing that threatened to choke him with every breath. It was like he was inhaling the destruction, the misery, the anguish of the masses. He drowns in the feeling. Every single day. Knowing that he is completely powerless to stop it. That's the worst part. With the power he has, he could help so many people. But he's been reduced to a good little soldier to further the motives of the corrupt administration that rules over them all. He just wants it to end. All of it. 

He's thought about it after all. It would be so easy to just pull the gun from its holster and fire a bullet into his brain. He hasn't yet but he wonders how much longer he can resist the urge. In the interim, he'll just wait and hope that things will get better. That somehow, somewhere, someone will hear his prayers and send help. 

The sudden sounds of a scuffle reach his ears and he's quick to find the source of the noise. In an instant, he's all business and no distractions. He discovers them in an alleyway. Surrounded by bags of garbage and the stink of humanity, he sees a man poised over a woman. His hands around her neck, squeezing the life from her. He can't see her face but he doesn't hesitate as he runs forward and pulls his gun on the man. 

“I'm gonna have to ask you to step away from the lady,” he says, voice cold and demanding. He watches the man's shoulders freeze. And then slowly turn his head to fix him with that dead, crazed look he's seen so many times before. It's the look of a killer. 

“That's not gonna happen, boy. Now put away the toy and walk away,” the murderer replies. From his voice, he can tell that he's said this more times than he can recall. It's become second nature. A reflex to seeing cops trying to bend him to the law of the land. And for a moment, he almost considers the offer. Almost wants to walk away because he doesn't get paid nearly enough to deal with this shit every day. But he can't do it. He knows there's an innocent woman beneath that scumbag and he won't abandon her to this. 

“Last warning,” he says and when the killer smirks at him and turns away, he fires a bullet into his shoulder. Just shy of his spinal cord. He drops like a rock to the side of the woman. And then he's running forward, eyes taking in the sight of her blue eyes, pale skin, and bright red hair. She's beautiful he thinks. 

“Ma'am, I believe introductions are in order,” he says to her as he bends down to shackle the killer's hands behind his back. “I'm Bruce Banner.”


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

She doesn't say anything as Bruce handcuffs the man and pushes his unconscious body up against the stone wall marking both sides of the alleyway. He is nothing but dead weight and Bruce knows it's wrong to just leave him like that. But when he turns back to see the poor woman's face, the thought crosses his mind that maybe if the man dies he'll deserve it. 

Her eyes are glassy. Whether it's from shock or unshed tears, he can't really tell. He just knows that she is his responsibility now. After all, he considered leaving her in this alleyway and God knows what would have happened if he had not interfered. The least he can do is make sure that she is taken care of.   
So remembering what little he's learned from watching paramedics on scene, he reaches out to feel her skin. Cold. He's almost sure that means she has gone into shock and without a second thought, he shrugs off his uniform jacket and drapes it over her shoulders. 

“Ma'am, you've gone into shock and I'm going to ask you to come down to the police station with me. It's just down the street and we'll just need to ask you a few questions about what happened here. Then maybe I can walk you home?” 

And just like that his entire world is flipped upside down. He's always prided himself on being able to read people. Even as a child he was always perceptive. He had to be if he had any hope of overcoming the monster that lived in the next room over. If he had any hope of avoiding the rages his own father would get in after drinking his worries away. If he ever wanted to outsmart the bullies who always tried to get the upper hand on him in Junior High. But this woman, with only a few short words manages to throw him in a way that no one else has in a very long time. 

At his words, she rips his jacket from her shoulders and shoves it back in his hands. The look on her face is murderous. Her hair flaming and gleaming with every shift of her body in the dim light of the alley. 

“One of your fellow officers can ask me all the questions they want. But you're not getting anywhere near me after this, pal. I've had enough hands grabbing at me lately without adding some crooked cop to the pot,” she replies and promptly brushes past him to lead the way back to the police station. Dumbfounded and left to scramble after her, he has no idea what to even say. Of all the responses to his question, he'd not expected that. 

“Wait. Ma'am, wait!” he yells as he rushes to grab the fugitive and follow her. She's already half-way down the street by the time he catches up. He tries not to notice how she won't look at him. Won't even acknowledge his existence. She's the strangest woman he's ever met and they've hardly said anything to each other. And as they continue on the way to the police station, he's left to wonder. 

 

He thinks a day is plenty enough time for Tony to find out about the incident. It takes him exactly three hours. Bruce is still tied up at the office doing paperwork and answering question after question from every single person that walks by his desk on the way to the John, on the way to get more coffee, on their way out. He doesn't know what to say to them. He knows nothing about the woman he saved and he knows even less about what he saved her from. 

He's just finishing the last of the paperwork, having taken refuge in one of the janitor's closets in the basement in order to get it done, when he's found. It's a testament to their friendship that Tony doesn't burst into a fit when he throws open the door. 

“Heard you had a problem today,” Tony comments as he saunters into the closet and casually plops down next to his friend. Bruce loves Tony but in this moment he hates him with a burning passion. He doesn't want to talk about it. Is absolutely done with talking about it. But then it is Tony and hell, who else is he going to talk about this with?

“You know, I don't even really understand what happened today,” he replies, setting the paperwork to the side and sliding his glasses from his face. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he lets out a sigh he's been holding onto for far too long. “She didn't thank me. Had the nerve to pretend that I didn't even exist while we walked back to the station.” 

“Happens to the best of us, Bruce,” Tony said immediately. Ever the comedian. 

“Yeah well now I'm the laughing stock of the force.”

“I'm sure that's not true,” Tony began until he saw the look on Bruce's face. The one that said don't dick around with me, Tony. “Fine, fine. But they're all just a bunch of assholes, buddy. Don't listen to them. You're better than them and you know it.”

“Wish I could be as confident as you are in that little fact.” 

“At least you're acknowledging it as fact now.”

“Yeah well with you telling me so much, how could I ever forget?” 

Bruce glanced over at Tony and saw the grin playing about the corners of his mouth. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. The life that they both led, sometimes it was impossible to find the opportunity to smile or laugh. It felt nice and he was thankful for probably the thousandth time that he had Tony Stark to break the monotony of his days. 

“So are you gonna sit in here and mope? Or are you going to go out there and tell everyone to kindly fuck off so that you can get that paperwork done?” 

Bruce slid his glasses back on and fixed his best friend with a look that bespoke of the quiet strength he'd always had to maintain. He would stand up and fight. Just as he always did. Every single day. As if the will to struggle on had been engrained in him from the very start. 

Besides, she was just one woman. An extraordinarily, beautiful, fiesty, opinionated woman. One that he was certainly not getting curious about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have big plans for this and it'll be a bloody miracle if this ends up being as involved a plot as I think it might become.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Okay so I did not intend for this to get away from me like it has. But there we are. It'll be a series. Not sure how long it will be though. I have some ideas, but we shall see.


End file.
